


Scars

by Salty_Libra



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salty_Libra/pseuds/Salty_Libra
Summary: Scars are nothing more than the body's way of telling its story.
Relationships: Arackniss/Sir Pentious (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 120





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> Twitter voted for "more sleepy angst," so here goes round three! I opted for something a little bit different, namely that I set this much earlier in the relationship, before they really know everything about each other. Figured it might help set it apart from the other two sleepy angst shorts. This one was definitely fun to write - I hope you enjoy it as well!
> 
> Pentniss week is coming up and I plan to write a series of scenes (200 to 400 words each, maybe?) for each of the days. No promises I get them all, but I'll try my best!

It was, by all accounts, a calm and peaceful night. If he was entirely honest, Pen found that rather odd. "Calm" and "peaceful" weren't usually words used to describe Hell.

Pen had settled down on his side of the bed with a book, enjoying the weight and heat coming from the small body to his right. Beyond the gentle crackling of firewood, the room was quiet. Orange light from the hearth spread along the walls, illuminating the bedroom, reflecting off the snake's scales and casting flickering shadows across the room. 

Pen yawned and stretched, sparing a glance at the clock to see that 1 A.M. had already come and gone while he was reading. The snake pulled his reading glasses off and set his book down on the bedside table, then turned to look down at the little spider. Niss was lying on his back, completely tucked under the covers, only a tuft of his black hair poking out at the top. Pen turned his ear and listened carefully.

A breath in, the blankets rose. A breath out, they fell, and Pen heard a faint whistle. Not quite a snore, barely even loud enough to hear, but it was there. As far as the snake could tell, Niss had dozed off before he had. In their few nights together, that was a first. Until now, Pen hadn't even been entirely sure the spider ever slept. 

Pen smiled to himself slightly. _"Probably just tired. He had a long day."_

The snake reached down and carefully pulled back the sheets to look at Niss, doing his best not to wake the spider up. Many would probably have described Niss' face as ugly or monstrous - eight eyes, asymmetrically arranged, two prominent fangs, and a nasty scar that Niss usually tucked beneath his fur, but was exposed with his messy bed hair. But to Pen, he wasn't any of that. 

Pen couldn't help himself, and pulled the covers further down, exposing Niss' chest, rhythmically rising and falling with his breath. The spider's chest appeared several inches larger than it actually was thanks to a thick layer of soft fluff, giving him an oddly feminine appearance much like his brother - something Pen wasn't sure if Niss was proud or ashamed of, if he even cared to begin with. 

Beneath the fluff, and spreading further down to his stomach, Pen's eyes caught on several scars he didn't know about, each no more than two inches in length. By Pen's best guess, they were probably old knife wounds. He winced when he saw them, and he didn't entirely know why; he was a long-time resident of Hell, blood and gore had long since stopped phasing him, but a few small scars somehow did. Was he going soft?

Pen reached down for the covers a third time to pull them back up.

"Ya know, if ya wanted a better look at me, ya could'a just asked." 

Pen looked back at Niss' face and saw eight eyes slightly open, looking back at him. Pen flashed a sheepish grin.

"I suppose I'm just curious." Pen paused a moment, his sheepish grin shifting to a smug smile. "Besides, I can't help it that you're nice to look at." 

Niss' eyes slightly narrowed. "Normally, flattery wouldn't getcha anywhere, but fortunately for you, ya woke me back up on the right side of the bed."

Pen raised a finger. "...but you're on the left side of the bed." 

"It's just an expression, Pen. It means I'm in a good mood." Niss raised an eyebrow, somewhere between confused and amused at the response. He sat up and leaned against the backboard of the bed. "What're ya curious about?"

Pen looked down at Niss' chest, then back up at the spider. "The scars. Where did you get them?"

"Well, since I'm in a good mood, I'll let you pick one." Niss put his arms out to his side, exposing his body to let Pen see the scars. "But only one. You can find out about the others later." 

Pen contemplated the offer briefly, then pointed to the largest of the scars on Niss' stomach. "That one." 

"I got jumped while I was downtown, few years back. Four guys from a rival family. Probably thought they could use me to get at my pops." Niss hesitated for a moment on the last word before continuing his story; "I capped three of them 'fore they did anythin' but the last bastard - big burly fella - got in close, beat me senseless with his bare hands, stuck a serrated knife in my stomach as a souvenir to remember 'em by and left me for dead. I lost that fight."

"That's awful!" Pen faintly gasped. "What did you do after that?" 

Niss expression went dead and emotionless. "I tracked the fucker down and gave him his knife back."

Pen stared at Niss, blinking in slight astonishment at how detached he had suddenly become.

Niss shrugged in response, his own expression returning to normal. "At any rate, it wasn't very detailed but now ya know that story. I'll let you pick another one some other time. I'm going back to sleep."

Niss laid back down and rolled onto his side facing away from the snake. As he pulled the sheets back over his head, Pen caught a glimpse of his back, revealing a full canvass covered in scars of every variety, ranging from blades and bullets to burns and even some bruises that had to be rather recent.

The fire in the hearth had finally died down to embers, leaving the room dark save for the faint fiery glow, the sound of crackling firewood now too soft to be heard. Pen laid down, staring at the ceiling, lost in his own thoughts.

_It's going to be a long time before I find out all of those stories._

"Scars ain't nothing more than the body's way of telling its story, and believe me when I say there's a lotta story to be told here." Niss said out loud, almost in response to Pen's thoughts. "Stick around and you'll get the story."


End file.
